


Bad Influence

by miss_nettles_wife



Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: AU, First Kiss, Grief, M/M, light Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:30:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_nettles_wife/pseuds/miss_nettles_wife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're in bad company now, Charlie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Influence

**Author's Note:**

> //You can blame my friend Sophie for encouraging this. I haven't written in the first person since about grade 4, as you can probably tell. But whatever, I tried. Here's an AU for you. Try and guess what it is, I'm not giving anything away, but here's a warning for when Lisa Wooton looks like she might be considering suicide in 'The Silence' (2x07, if you haven't seen it.) Inspired by a very angry Lawson in Mortal Coil I might hate that episode, but I don't hate how Charlie looks both scared and turned on in the background.

I take a sip of my drink and I wonder how it is that I ended up here. Lawson delivers another blow to the suspect in the cell. A bloody hand reaches for his face, but he does nothing, so neither do I. I take another sip of my drink. It's already been decided that I don't tell this sort of thing to Melbourne, not if I know what's good for me. And maybe I do. Maybe. 

I take another sip of cola and check my watch. It's almost time for me to knock off, I think, but as per usual, I imagine I will spend the better part of the night here with him. (Not because I like him or anything like that, nope, no way, it's because I hate my new room mate at the boarding house) I almost believe my own lie, as Lawson finally stops beating the suspect bloody. He walks out, and up to me. I pretend I don't see him at first and pull the straw into my mouth. He stares at me, and I think good, let him stare. Any time I can annoy Matthew Lawson is a point for me. Eventually, he stops starring and sits. “Have a good time?” I ask, and offer him my hankerchief for the blood. He huffs, and doesn't answer. I don't know why I talk to him when he's in these moods. 

I can't really think up an excuse for Dr Harvey at this point, but that's not my job, not really. Any smart person knows that Matthew Lawson runs this town, and you'd be smart to stay on the right side of him. I'm no different. Charlie Davis, right had man to the crazy, grief stricken Matthew Lawson. I don't mention these moments in my reports to Melbourne, they'd have him booted out in an instant. This job is probably the only reason he even gets out of bed. (That's what I tell myself; the fact that he threatened to break all of my teeth and my back if I ever did may play a part in that.) 

I toss my bottle into the waste paper basket by my desk as we make out way back to our seats. I don't ask for my hankerchief back, even though I suppose I probably should. I set about making my report for our most recently solved homicide. Lawson doesn't say thanks, but he tosses it back at me when I stand up to leave for the night. As per usual, I smile at him. “Good night, Boss.” He doesn't reply, so I take my leave and head back to the boarding house.   
...  
My room mate snores. Loudly. The land lord won't kick him out, since they need the money, but I wish they would because he is so loud. Does my head in. I put my pillow over my face and try to think of something to put me to sleep, but all I can conjure up is my boss. I suppose alone in here I could consider the fact that I may have a crush on him, or I could try and imagine him as a younger man. Not so angry. Not so bitter. Happier. I've never even seen him smile so it turns out to be rather a task. Eventually I give up, and just think of nothing until I fall asleep.   
…

“His name's Joseph Lennox.” I begin my usual spiel. The who and the what. It was up to Dr Harvey to tell us how and when and the where. The why was Lawson's job. Sometimes I help. They go into the room to examine the body, and I stay here to question the teachers. Of course, that doesn't stop me noticing the rather healed bruises on the Deputies hands. Having had my own fair share of split knuckles I decided it was better to bring it to the boss. 

…

I cannot ever recall being so uncomfortable in my whole life. The look in Lawson's eyes tell me that we're keeping this guy overnight. It also tells me I should get Dr Harvey on the phone. I wonder, after a moment, when he stalks out, what it may be that he tells her to get her to keep coming out. Maybe he has dirt on her? Although I struggle to think of dirt anyone may have on the good doctor. I stare at him while Lawson is gone. Macavoy stares back at me. “Do you want to know why we called him Splashy? Between you and me?”   
“No.” I say, after a moment.   
“Of course you do, Senior Constable.” He's right, I do. But that also doesn't sound like something Lawson would want me to know. So I take the Boss's side, the way I always do.   
“Shut up.” It feels pretty good to tell someone else to shut up, since I'm usually the one being told to shut my mouth. He glares at me for a moment, and then tells me anyway. I stare at him in silence before Lawson bursts in like a man possessed, and I wonder what his wrist would feel like breaking under my hands.   
…  
Ned tackles the Wooton boy to the ground, while I chase after the sister. I never really got on with Ned. But I do like him better then Hobart, so I keep my mouth shut and let Lawson think I like him. He's a pretty good cop, but I've never met a man so serious in my life. He never laughs at at anything. The sister, by now, is standing on the bridge, looking down onto the railway tracks. She edges towards the ground, and towards a very untimely demise. I look out over the edge and assess the drop.   
“I don't think you'd live.” I state, and she looks at me sharply.

“Come down, Lisa.” I say, and she doesn't. She moves closer. So I stand up next to her.   
“You go down there then I'll have to chase after you.” I say, as she looks over the top of her Mary Janes and down onto the dirt below. She doesn't say anything. Neither do I. We both stand there, looking over our shoes and down below. “I'm going to sit.” I tell her, and I lower myself so that my legs are hanging off of the dusty bridge side. She keeps watching me. I pat the ground next to me. “Trust me. You'll feel a bit better.” She sits. It's windy. My hair blows up. She looks at it, and I smile to her. “It's windy. At least now we won't be blown over.” I say, and she keeps watching me, as I spin so I'm facing the other way. “I think your brother would like to see that you're okay.” I offer. It's big brother Charlie Davis talking now. The one who beat up school yard bullies and carried his brothers home if they were tried. He's a good man, big brother Charlie Davis. ( Police man Charlie Davis, not so much) She, thank the lord, does turn and look at her brother. She hops off the bridge and runs to him. I follow after, Ned raises his eyebrows at me, but I say nothing. 

…

“The Doctor would have been proud of you, this afternoon.” Lawson tells me, as we sit alone at our desks that evening. It's still a while before my normal clock out, so I offer him a weak smile. “Ned told me how you got the Wooton girl down from that bridge.”   
“I never knew your doctor.”  
“I know, but it feels like you should have.” I shake my head at him.  
“How could you possibly feel that?”  
“I don't know.” Lawson admits. I just feel like you should have been here.” I offer him nothing in reply, but take another sip of my coke. I don't know how he took my quiet. I just didn't know how to reply to such a statement.   
“Maybe it should have been him being here, rather then me?” Lawson doesn't reply, so I assume he's gone into one of his moods again. 

After fifteen minutes the previously welcome quiet becomes daunting. “What about you?”  
“What about me what?” Lawson asked, glancing up at me.   
“Are you proud of me?” He shook his head and looked down at his papers.   
“I would have thought that it went without saying.”I have even less of an idea how to reply to him, so I pack up my things and I go to the door. I pause, and look back at him.   
“Good night, Boss.” I say, softly. “See you in uh...Two days.” I offer. He nods at me.   
“Davis.” I leave, but a little part of me wishes I'd stayed with him.   
…

Lawson thunders around like a man possessed when he's angry. If Lawson's angry, then I am usually the one put in charge of calming him down again, as well as making sure that he doesn't actually kill whatever unfortunate soul has ended up in the cells. I suppose it's a job I've gotten used to. But perhaps not my favorite. No, my favorite job is any job that involves driving Lawson around. Mostly because he spends the whole time correcting me on my driving skills (Which are fine, thanks) but for some reason, it still makes me feel warm inside. 

Today, however, instead of going straight to his desk to drink from the flask that I pretend I don't know about, he thunders right up to my desk. I'm the only one here.   
“Did you corner Macavoy behind the bike sheds and beat him up?” I did, but of course I don't say it out loud.   
“Why do you care?” I counter, “You hate the bastard.” I lift my coke bottle to my lips to take a sip, but Lawson snatches it out of my hand. “Hey!' I protested, but he glares at me.   
“Did you do it?”  
“How would you know?” I ask, folding my arms over my chest tightly. Lawson puts my bottle down, and shows me a yellow evidence file. He tips the contents onto the table in front of me. The top half of a broken coke bottle. (If you're wondering, it was very satisfying to break it over his head) When I reach for it, he grabs my hand and pulls my glove off. He looks at my bloody knuckles, and then back at me. He doesn't look angry any more as much as he looks tired.  
“You cornered him behind the bike sheds, hit him over the head with your empty bottle, and then proceeded to beat him so much that you put him into hospital.”   
“Did he name me, specifically?”  
“Apparently, he didn't get a good look at your face.” He said, before leaning over the desk and glaring me right in the face. He's so close I can see all of his pores. “Did you, or did you not corner Donald Macavoy behind the bike sheds and beat him so hard that he pissed himself?” There's a pause while he narrows his eyes at me. I relent.   
“Yeah.” He moves closer so our noses are touching.   
“Why?” We stare at one another, and again, I relent.   
“Because he hurt you, and I wasn't going to let him get away with that.” He seems even slightly surprised by the revelation, surprised enough that he lent forward, and kissed me. I tried to kiss back, but it was probably the most awkward kiss I've ever had. (And for reference, I've had roughly sixteen or so kisses in my life. And since I initiated most of them, they're all pretty awkward.) He pulls back, and we both stare at one another. He reels back, and coughs into his hand.   
“Right. Well. Don't uh...Don't do it again.” He said, walking towards his desk.   
“You beat up a guy for calling me pretty once.”   
“Do as I say, not as I do, Constable.” He insists, as he hurries out of the building. I pick up my bottle of coke, and wonder what the hell my next move should be.   
…  
“Your front door was unlocked.” I say, as I lean against the door frame on his patio. Lawson looks back at me, with one eye closed.   
“No it wasn't.”  
“Your right. I jumped your fence and came in though the back door.” He rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his glass. I set my bag down, and take out a half drunk bottle of coke. I join him at the railing.   
“Listen, about the other day...”  
“Save the excuses.” I state. “I didn't come here to debate homosexuality with you.” I offer. “I came here to tell you….That was a shit first kiss.” He actually smiles. I've never seen him do that before. “You can smile!” I say, as he shakes his head.   
“Yeah well, don't tell anyone. That the only reason you're here?” I shame my head no.  
“I also thought you might appreciate the chance, to try a second time.” He looks out onto his lawn.   
“Charlie, why would you want to mess around with me? I'm an angry old cop, I'm too much of a bad influence on you as it is.”  
“Firstly, I don't mess around with anyone. If someone's idiot enough to get into a relationship with me then I ain't ever letting go, because what are the chances of that happening twice? Secondly, you know nothing about my personal life, maybe I have a thing for slightly alcoholic middle aged men, with a destructive streak.” He scoffs slightly, and knocks back the last of his drink.   
“You aren't leaving until you get another kiss, are you?”  
“Nope.” He takes me by the hand back into his living room. I put my bottle down next to his empty glass. He stands in the center of the room, and I go to stand next to him. 

He put one hand on the side of my face, and looks at me. I have no idea if he sees what I see. “That bloke, the one from the bar who called you a pretty boy?”  
“Yeah?”  
“He was right.” I actually chuckle softly.   
“I've seen pictures of you, you know.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Mm. You were very pretty yourself.”  
“And I'm not now?”  
“No...Now you're more handsome. Like a nice wine.'  
“I thought you didn't drink?”   
“I had a glass of wine at a wedding once.”  
“I see.” He comments, “That counts as drinking, does it?”  
“You're the expert.” I counter. He chuckled softly, and stepped forward so his toes are almost on top of mine. After a long moment, he leans down, and I lean up. There's not much of a height difference between us, so both movements are sort of useless, but I suppose it helped me feel a little better about being shorter. It's probably the nicest kiss I've ever had. 

…

I take the cigarette from his hand, and take a drag from it. He looks at me, and shakes his head slightly. Neither of us are dressed properly, and somehow, that's alright. He watches me for a minute, before taking it back from me. “I thought you didn't smoke?”   
“I thought you gave it up.” I counter, and hop into his lap on the arm chair. He rolls his eyes at me, but doesn't kick me off him. I smile at him, and he smiles back. “You're a bad influence on me, you know. Everyone says it.”  
“Everyone?”  
“Dr Harvery, Bill Hobart, Mattie O'Brian...” He smacks me playfully on the arm.   
“Stop it.” he said, taking another drag from his burning cigarette.   
“So tell me.” I say, putting my head on his shoulder. “What would your Doctor Blake say now?”  
“I think he'd say that I'm a bad influence, and you're a fool for not reporting it.” I smile again, and cross my ankles as they hang over the edge of the chair.   
“I thought you would beat me, when I told you I beat up Macavoy.”  
“What, and bruise your pretty face?” Lawson asks, in mock shock. “Never.”  
“Did you want to do it yourself?”  
“Kind of.” he admits.   
“Sorry.” He chuckles, and gives me another kiss.   
“I wouldn't worry too much about it.” He offers. “You still staying at the boarding house?”

“Yeah.”  
“So as it turns out, I have half of a free bed.”  
“We had sex once and you're asking me to move in with you?”  
“Mutual benefits. I get a bed warmer and rent. You get a bed and a bed warmer.” I smile at him, and shake my head.   
“You are unbelievable.” I say, as I lean over to grab my bottle from earlier. He pulls a face at it.   
“I have no idea how you drink that stuff. It tastes like molasses.”  
“It's sweet and full of caffeine.” I reply, “I don't need anything else.” He smiled at me again, and I smiled back. I put my bottle down, and kiss his cheek. “Fine yes, I'll move in.” I say, “But there's no way I'm paying rent.”  
“Why not?” I raise an eyebrow at him, and he shakes his head.   
“Fine.” He grumbles. I take the cigarette from him again, and take another drag.   
“You're a bad influence.” I reply,   
“Well someone has to balance out your sweetness.” And something told me that he wasn't just talking about the coke.   
…


End file.
